


Order Out

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Delivery Boy Ian, Hopelessly In Love Mickey, I AM IN DENIAL, M/M, Meddlesome Mandy, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor, THE FINALE PISSED ME OFF, i don't want to talk about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey can't afford to order out every night, but he is willing to get evicted if that hot redhead keeps delivering his food. </p><p>Mandy may or may not think he's an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Order Out

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want to talk about the finale.
> 
> Here's a fic for you.
> 
> Enjoy.

Mickey doesn't  _like_ his job. In fact, he hates it more than he's hated anything in his life. He doesn't get paid enough to put up with his boss's crap, he usually gets stuck doing the grunt work because nobody else wants to do it, and he swears, up and down, that some dickwad is stealing shit from his locker, but he can't prove it. If he didn't need the money to pay his rent, he'd quit in a heartbeat, but he quite likes having the freedom to do whatever (or whomever) he pleases without the fear of being attacked in his sleep, so he sucks it up. He puts up with all the shit because he'd rather deal with locker thieves and grunt work and that piece of crap he calls a boss than spend another second living under his father's roof.

He gets home later than he expected, too fucking tired to bother digging around his fridge for anything edible, and decides to order some takeout from that 24-hour diner a few blocks from his place. After he makes his order, Mickey takes a quick shower, trying to wash the stench of his day off of his skin. He's just getting out when he hears his door swing open and Mandy call, "Hey shithead!"

Mickey scoffs, wrapping a towel around his waist, and shoves the bathroom door open. He pads into his living room, scowling at the back of his sister's head while she lounges on his couch, flipping aimlessly through his channels, and asks, "Ever fucking heard of knocking?"

Mandy looks over the back of the couch and rolls her eyes. "If I knew you were going to dress up for me I would have stopped by sooner." He glares at her and she smirks, returning her gaze to the TV. "You shouldn't have given me a key, asswipe."

"Fuck off," he grumbles stalking towards his bedroom. He quickly pulls on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, returning to the living room a few moments later. He drops down next to Mandy, shaking his head back and forth, splattering her with the leftover water from his damp hair.

"Asshole," she snarls punching his arm.

"Bitch." Someone knocks on his door and Mickey springs to his feet, giving his sister a titty twister. She lashes out, kicking him in the hip, and he grunts, stumbling towards the door. He pulls it open, expecting some pimply teen delivering his food, but takes an involuntary step back when he finds some tall redheaded guy instead. "Um, hi." This guy is far too hot to be a delivery boy.

Amusement flickers in the redhead's eyes as he holds up the bag of food. "Milkovich?" Mutely, Mickey nods, accepting the food the redhead hands him, almost closing the door in the guy's face, but stops when the guy states, "$8.50."

"What?"

"You owe me $8.50."

"Right." He's vaguely aware of Mandy snorting behind him, but he ignores her as he grabs his wallet from the coffee table. He digs out a ten, hands it to the delivery guy, and numbly says, "Keep the change."

"Thank you." The guy smiles, and with a small wave he turns and walks away.

Mickey waits until the guy has disappeared around the corner before closing the door. He turns to see Mandy shaking her head back and forth, hardly containing the smirk on her face. Mickey scowls and grumbles, "What?"

"Perv," she teases and he digs a fry out of his bag, throwing it at her head.

* * *

Mickey waits a few days before ordering out again. This time, he makes sure he's wearing a pair of jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt, figuring it couldn't hurt to show off the muscles he has acquired over the years. Especially if that redhead brings his food again. Not that he's trying to impress the guy or anything, but his muscles aren't something he should keep hidden. He's very proud of them.

Mandy, who apparently doesn't have her own home, is sitting on his couch again, watching him pace back and forth in front of the door. She snorts softly and says, "You're pathetic."

"Fuck you," Mickey snaps just as someone knocks. It takes everything he has not to run to the door, but he's fairly certain he walks faster than is really necessary, yanking the door open. Surprise flickers in the redhead's eyes briefly, but it's replaced a second later by amusement.

"Hello again," he greets handing the bag over to Mickey.

"Hi."

"That'll be $9.00."

"Alright." Mickey pulls a random bill from his pocket, handing it over to the redhead. "Keep it."

"This is an 11 dollar tip," the guy states slowly, uncertainly, holding up the twenty.

"Keep it," Mickey repeats, his voice sharper than he intends, and he practically slams the door in the guy's face. He regrets the decision the moment he does it, but he can't exactly open the door and act like nothing happened. He has to live with what he's done.

He hears Mandy scoff and whisper, "Dumbass."

* * *

Mickey can't afford to order out every night (he knows this, Mandy knows this, hell even his neighbor's six-year-old son probably knows this), but that doesn't stop him from calling the diner Saturday night. This time, he makes sure Mandy isn't at his apartment, double checking her work schedule just to be on the safe side. He figures, if he doesn't have an audience, he might be able to say more than five words to the redheaded guy (and also refrain from slamming the door in his face).

There's a tentative knock at his door, and Mickey forces himself to wait a few seconds before crossing the room. Carefully, he opens the door, the redhead standing in the threshold, a wary expression on his face. Mickey offers the guy a small smile. "Hey."

"Hi," the guy says relaxing a little bit. He holds up the bag in his hand, just like he did the last two times, and states, "That'll be $8.50."

"Alright." As Mickey digs into his pockets for some cash, he curiously asks, "So, how long have you been a delivery boy?" Which is the  _last_ question he wants to ask, and he can tell the redhead hadn't been expecting it, but he hasn't learned how to reset time yet. So Mickey can either stand there awkwardly, digging around his pocket for some money, or pretend that's  _exactly_ the question he wanted to ask and hope for the best.

"Um, a little over two years," the guy replies slowly, clearly on the same page as Mickey. "It's not a career or anything."

"Yeah." Mickey nods, finally finding a ten in his back pocket. "I work at Staples, six days a week. Kinda hope that doesn't turn into a career either." He hands the ten over, waiting for Ian to take it before accepting the food from the guy. "So, um, I'm..."

The guy's phone pings, startling both men, and he pulls it from his coat pocket. He checks the screen and huffs, shoving it back in his pocket. "Hey, I've got to go, but it was great talking to you again." He starts to leave but stops, turning back to Mickey. "I'm Ian."

"What?"

The guy grins, rushing down the hall, calling over his shoulder, "My name!"

He's gone before Mickey can respond.

* * *

 _Ian. His name is Ian. Why did he tell you his name? That's weird,_ Mickey thinks later that night, staring at the ceiling.  _Ian._   _Ian. Ian._

Grumbling, Mickey sits up, swinging his legs off his mattress, snatching his cellphone off the rickety stand next to his bed, and calls Mandy. She answers on the fifth ring, her voice groggy yet vicious, " _What?"_

"His name's Ian," Mickey replies slowly, knocking his heels against his bed.

" _Who?"_  

"The delivery guy."

" _So you finally asked him out?"_ Mandy sounds vaguely intrigued, a little more awake.

"No," Mickey answers and can practically feel her glaring at him through the phone.

" _Fuck you,"_ she says and hangs up the phone. _  
_

"Bitch."

* * *

Mickey decides to avoid ordering from the diner for a while, opting to eat the crap Mandy leaves in his fridge instead. A couple times, he had dialed half the number, only to hit end and return to the cold eggs he had been eating. He doesn't know why he's suddenly avoiding Ian, it's not they were together or anything (hell he barely knew the guy), but he can't bring himself to see the redhead. The last thing he needs is to find out the guy is married and has a kid, bringing an end to this stupid crush or whatever before anything can even start. It's frustrating Mickey more than it should, and he knows it's stupid, but he can't help it.

About a week later, he's picking at a ham sandwich, when he hears someone knock at his door. He stands, wondering who's bothering to visit him, knowing it can't be Mandy (she never knocks), and he pulls the door open only to shut it again. There's a second knock followed by a quiet, "Your sister called me. C'mon, open up."

With a sigh, and a silent vow to make Mandy pay, Mickey opens the door again. Ian is standing in the hallway, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. He studies Mickey's face for a long moment before asking, "Can I come in?"

"Ain't you working?"

"I usually don't work this late," Ian answers shrugging.

"Wait what? But..."

The redhead smiles, raising his hands. "You caught me. I _might_ have been volunteering to bring you your food."

"You worked overtime just to bring me my food?" Mickey feels like he's missing something, but he can't pinpoint what exactly. Mandy would probably call him a moron, the answer practically in his face, but he's still have a hard time trying to figure it out. "Why?"

Ian shrugs. "You're cute, I might have been hoping you were gay."

Mickey huffs, amused, realization practically kicking him in the face, and asks, "Would you believe it if I said I was hoping for the same thing?"

The redhead grins and says, "Wanna go get a drink?"

Mickey glances over his shoulder at his sad, shredded sandwich, before looking back at Ian. He nods and says, "I don't have any plans."

He grabs his jacket, snatches his keys and wallet off the coffee table, and follows Ian out of the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him, knowing somewhere, Mandy has a smug look on her face.


End file.
